


I'm Gonna Be Loving You

by starseeker95



Series: All My Life [2]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Body Worship, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:27:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26606719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starseeker95/pseuds/starseeker95
Summary: After John and Paul's swim lesson, they head up to John's hotel room. John ends up feeling naked in more ways than one.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Series: All My Life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909093
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	I'm Gonna Be Loving You

By the time they’d wrapped the towels around themselves and made their way up to John’s door, Paul was so hard that he couldn’t stand it. By the way John fiddled clumsily with the door key, dropping it twice, he wasn’t faring much better.

Impatient, Paul snatched the keys from the guitarist and unlocked the door himself, bundling John inside and pushing him against the nearest wall. John’s towel came loose from his waist and he released a moan as the cool air hit his still-soaked swim trunks. Skimming his hands over John’s chest, Paul pressed himself flush against the other man and grinned when he found his suspicions to be true.

Paul chuckled lightly before cupping John’s hard length through the sodden amterial. “Bit excited, are we?”

John’s eyes, lidded and heavy, fluttered as Paul gave him a light squeeze. “A bit. Just a…”

Suddenly feeling feverish, Paul dug his fingers into John’s hair and tugged, causing the guitarist’s mouth to fall open. Seizing his chance, Paul sank his tongue into the older man’s mouth, licking his way inside and demanding control. The hands on Paul’s arse hooked and squeezed as John’s head tipped back against the wall, completely at the bassist’s mercy.

When Paul finally pulled away, it was only to kiss roughly at John’s pulse point and the thrill of feeling the other man’s pulse, strong and fast beneath his lips, turned Paul on far more than he could’ve anticipated. Feeling himself twitch, Paul dipped his head and pulled a peaked nipple into his warm mouth.

John’s hands abandoned Paul’s arse to grip his shoulders. “Paul-”

“Just let me, John-love. I want to…”

Paul bent to suckle on the nipple, enjoying the little gasps that John blew into his hair. He could feel his own erection pressing uncomfortably against the inside of his trunks, but he couldn’t be bothered to take them off. Instead, Paul continued to massage John’s through the fabric as the other man bucked until his hand. After a minute or two, Paul knelt to resituate himself on his knees… only for John to grip his arm.

“No, no- come up here-”

Uncertain, the bassist straightened to look John in the eye, stunned by just how undone the other man looked. Sweat mixed with pool water glistened on John’s temples and his breathing stuttered unsteadily through red-bitten lips. His caramel-colored eyes peeked lazily at Paul from beneath long fluttering eye lashes.

Shifting back to give the other man some space, Paul released a yelp of surprise when one of John’s strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him right back. “No, Paul.”

“No what?”

“No hurrying. I…” John swallowed, his eyes lowering as his cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. “I wanna go slow… wanna go slow with you, Paulie.”

“You mean… you don’t wanna do anything tonight?”

By the way John looked at him, Paul knew that that was not what he’d meant at all. “No! No I mean… damn it. I mean that I want to take it slow, y’know? I want to… to take care of you… to make love to you. Christ, this is-”

Paul leaned in and kissed him, slowly and softly, the barest brush of lips. When he pulled back, he found John staring at him, so sincerely and hopelessly that it was heartbreaking. John was no virgin, Paul knew, but he still looked as though he was about to pass out from nerves. “We can do that.”

Nodding jerkily, John looked down and took Paul’s hand into his own. Lifting them, he studied their joined hands for a moment, scrutinized their folded fingers. Then, flicking his eyes back to Paul, John pressed his mouth to the bassist’s inner wrist, allowing his tongue to leave a moist patch before he began to work his way up Paul’s arm.

As he went, John began to mutter words, so softly that Paul barely heard them above his own ragged breathing. “So beautiful… so perfect, Paulie… so very pretty…”

By the time John’s attention reached Paul’s shoulder and then his throat, the younger man was shaking hard enough that he needed steadying. He knew for a fact that he’d never been so aroused in his entire life. “John… John please…”

“Anything you want, lovely. Anything.”

John licked into the hollow above Paul’s collarbone before giving the jut itself a sharp nip, causing Paul’s hips to jerk forward. Paul had to swallow twice before he was able to speak. “Your mouth. Please?”

“Come along then.”

The feeling of John pulling back was enough to make Paul whine, the cold air suddenly too much to bare. Hurrying, he followed John deeper into the room, limping as his overheated length caught inside his swim trunks. Wincing, he was so distracted by the discomfort that it was a moment or two before he noticed strong hands resting on his hips.

Looking down, he found John kneeling at his feet, his eyes trained intently on Paul. Plucking at the edges of the swim trunks, John smiled softly. “May I?”

Nodding stiffly, Paul bit his lip as John drug down his swim trunks, carefully guiding his cock free of the chafing material. The moment it sprung free, Paul jerked as it slapped against his belly, so painfully hard and aching that he could think of nothing else.

“You really are perfect everywhere, aren’t you Macca?”

“John, please-”

“I’ll take care of you, love, don’t worry. Come along now. On the bed you go.”

Wobbling, Paul crawled onto the bed, his erection slapping painfully against this belly every time he moved. Once in the middle, he turned onto his back and allowed himself to sink into the mattress. After swimming and everything else, he was exhausted in both mind and in body, more than happy to cede control to John.

Lips coasted along Paul’s jaw and he threaded his fingers through John’s hair, enjoying the feel of the other man’s five o’clock shadow against his neck. When John’s mouth traveled lower, down to circle a beaded nipple, Paul choked a breath. “Please, John. Don’t tease me. Not tonight. Please-”

“I’m not, babe. Just wanna enjoy this, y’know. It’s not every day that I get to suck off Paul McCartney.”

“Well, you haven’t s-sucked anything yet as far as I can tell.”

In answer, John pinched the nipple he’d been playing with, drawing a squeak from Paul. “Cheeky thing aren’t you? Patience is a virtue, y’know.”

“Waited long enough…”

The guitarist dipped that sinful tongue into Paul’s navel, making him jump and moan. “Doubt it’s been as long as me, son-”

“Paris! I’ve- I’ve waited since Paris.”

The warm breath that finally caressed his leaking member stuttered away as John looked up from the task at hand. Their eyes connected and Paul saw naked wonder in the other man’s eyes. “You… Paris?”

Embarrassed, Paul looked away, back to the ceiling. “Yes. I… I wanted to kiss you. Remember when it rained and- and we were hiding in that doorway?” Paul waited for John to nod before continuing. “I wanted so bad- so bad to kiss you. Wanted to push you against the wall-”

Something warm and slick prodded the head of Paul’s dick and he gasped, his toes curling. Two hands suddenly hooked under his thighs, shoving them up and apart. Paul looked down to see John situating himself between Paul’s thighs, his hands easily lifting his lower body until Paul’s arse was cradled in John’s large palms. Paul watched, entranced, as John bent and licked a stripe from the base of his cock all the way to the tip, prodding at the slit before sucking the leaking head back into his mouth.

If Paul had died in that moment, he would’ve died a happy man.

John pulled off and peered up at him, one eye on either side of Paul’s painfully swollen member. “Tell me more about Paris, Paulie. You wanted to push me against the wall, did you?”

Paul tore his eyes away. If he kept watching, he knew he’d be done far too soon to save face. “I-I wanted to push you up- against the wall and- and-”

John’s lips closed over the head of his cock and Paul felt his eyes roll upward. “I- I wanted to kiss you- so bad- wanted to- _oh_ \- I wanted to-”

Lower down on the bed, John gave Paul’s arse a squeeze, making Paul jerk his hips upward into the warm, wet heat of his mouth. Paul forgot how to breath when he suddenly felt himself hit the back of John’s throat, felt the other man swallow him past that, deeper and deeper-

John pulled off and Paul was glad to hear that his voice was also broken with arousal. “What- what did you want to do to me in the rain?”

Paul trembled, the memory of that day bringing him to the edge. “I wanted to touch you, Johnny- wanted to kiss you everywhere, want you to- to _have me_ -”

“Oh, Paul-”

“I wanted you to- to take me back to our room-”

John’s mouth returned to his throbbing cock and Paul felt his breath rapidly leaving him as John sank down, taking him to the hilt and swallowing around him again and again. Though it felt so good, so unbelievably good, it was the sounds that ultimately did Paul in. Upon burying his nose in the nest of Paul’s pubic hair, John inhaled and released the most raw, pleasured moan that Paul had ever heard in his life.

He clawed a hand through John’s hair, trying to pull him away, trying to warn him, but John’s fingers only dug into Paul’s arse, encouraging the bassist to buck as hard as he wanted. And Paul had tried to hold back, had done his best to control himself, but the way John was groaning, the way his hands held him so easily, so deep, the way his eyes were fixed so worshipfully on Paul…

Paul’s abdomen tensed and his mouth fell open in a weak cry as the most intense orgasm of his life tore through his body, a hurricane of fire and ice raging through his veins. He felt as if his very sinews might tear loose as his body arched upward, so deeply pleasured that nothing existed beyond those few seconds of absolute perfect bliss.

.

John watched as Paul’s body bowed, his head thrown back as his orgasm swept through him, hitting the back of John’s throat in a series of salty spurts. Though the taste itself wasn’t exactly impressive, it was the knowing who it belonged to that had John tensing himself, spilling against the bed’s covers, entirely untouched. Distantly, John was glad that he’d slipped his trunks off when he had. That would’ve been an uncomfortable mess to have to clean up.

Even as his own orgasm threatened to steal his awareness, John fought to stay present as Paul’s body slowly relaxed back onto the bed. It was hypnotizing to see Paul, the perfectionist, the PR man Paul, come so completely undone, truly naked in John’s care. To have Paul trust him so completely… John couldn’t imagine there being a luckier man than himself in all existence.

Massaging the bassist’s thighs, John allowed Paul’s length to fall from his mouth and sat back. A fine glow of sweat glistened on the younger man’s chest, matting the fine black hairs to his flawless pale skin. John stared, unable to look away as Paul continued to try and catch his breath, his arms limp and long where they lay against the creamy linen sheets. Hazel eyes fluttered, half-aware and blissed out beneath those delicately arched eyebrows and John couldn’t help but crawl forward and plant a gentle kiss right between them.

Overwarm and exhausted, John hauled himself onto unsteady legs and made his way to the bathroom, soaking a towel in warm water before returning to Paul’s side. Reverently, he cleaned the worst of the remaining mess from Paul’s belly and thighs, murmuring an apology when he finally wiped Paul’s over-sensitive cock. John shushed him when Paul flinched and kissed his knee before wiping the worst of his own mess from the bed sheets and tossing the towel into a corner of the room. There were more important things to worry about than cleaning.

Paul blinked up at him when John returned to his side, a dopey smile on his face as he stretched languidly beneath the other man. Reaching down, his eyes widened a bit, confused, when he found John own member to be flaccid.

Wincing, John pulled back, his cheeks nearly bursting into flame. “Already spent, love. Just watching you and yours…”

Paul plush little mouth fell open, clearly speechless, and tugged John down against him, immediately burying his nose against John’s throat. Lazily, he delivered little kisses and licks that made John shiver and, suddenly protective, John pulled Paul’s body flush against himself, his fingers spreading wide across the small of Paul’s back.

But after several minutes of trading half-kisses, each one bestowed reverently upon sweat-cooled skin, John released an amused chuckle. “So… Paris, huh?”

Paul nodded and John buried his face even deeper into the other man’s chest. “Yeah. Loved you for a bit longer than that though. Just didn’t know how.”

Drawing his fingers across Paul’s back, John squinted at the ceiling. “How do you mean?”

“I knew I loved you, I just didn’t know in what way, see?” Paul pulled back to look up at John’s face. His voice, though still a bit ragged, was steady. “I knew I wanted to stay with you forever, but I didn’t know how. Like, if you were a friend, a brother… a lover…”

Deciding to spare the other man, John tucked Paul back under his arm. Silence fell over them and after some time had passed, John thought that Paul might’ve fallen asleep. Beginning to drowse himself, the guitarist was startled when something wet and warm prodded at his lips.

Without bothering to open his eyes, John allowed his mouth to open for Paul’s tongue, moaning when it flicked leisurely against his own. Retreating a bit, Paul’s lips were still close enough to brush John’s when he spoke. “Y’know… you were gonna tell me something… out in the pool?”

"I was?”

“You had started to say something… when we were floating. What were you going to say?”

John thought back, remembered the way Paul had looked when he’d stood over him in the pool. When their hands had been interlocked as they floated, side by side, under the stars. “…Oh. That.”

Sensing John’s sudden discomfort, Paul sat up a bit, his arms bracing himself over John. “You don’t have to tell me, I was just-”

“No! No, no. It’s not that. I just…”

The bassist was looking at him closely, all doe eyes and rosy cheeks… John forced himself to breath. No one had taught him how to say what he wanted to say, but damn it if he wasn’t going to try. Clearing his throat, John cupped Paul’s jaw in a jittery hand.

“The truth is… I’m gonna be loving you, James Paul McCartney. A year from now, ten years from now. When we’re both old and gray and we have to feed each other and I can’t find me teeth in the mornings. When- when we fight and I say horrid things that I don’t mean. Even when we turn into dirt and flowers grow on us, I’m still gonna be loving you. If I have to sing it to you from across the universe, long after I’m gone, I’ll find a way to let you know, Paulie. I’m gonna be loving you. Forever. I promise.”

John waited when he’d finished, his breath stilled. He expected Paul to react, how, he wasn’t sure. But all that came was silence.

Silence filled the space between them and John feared that he’d misspoken, that he’d said too much. Just inches away, Paul’s face flitted through so many emotions so quickly that John couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. His fight or flight kicking in, John rolled out from under the other man, an ache tightening in his chest. Everything he’d said had been true, he’d been sure of that. He wouldn’t dare hurt Paul with a lie, and John knew that he’d never forgive himself if he ever did. It was true, he’d loved Paul some time. But they hadn’t even been together a month yet. Such a proclamation…

A hand fell on John’s arm, stopping him from getting up and fleeing the room. A moment later, soft kisses trailing along his jaw brought John back to the present, brought his racing heart back to a manageable pace.

John felt Paul’s voice rather than heard it as the other man bent over his shoulder to whisper against his neck. “Johnny… oh, Johnny…”

Christ, he sounded like he was about to _cry_.

Worried, John turned around to find Paul smiling, his eyes glistening and unbearably bright. “Paul?”

Taking John’s chin in hand, Paul turned him around and placed a chaste kiss on John’s mouth. As he pulled away, his teeth caught on John’s lower lip, drawing a gasp from the guitarist. “Silly, Johnny…”

“I… what?”

Paul pushed him down onto the bed and attacked John’s mouth, the kiss so messy and furious and clumsy that John actually felt his spent prick twitch back to life. Kissing back, John dug his fingertips into Paul’s back as the younger man wiggled around on top of him, so excited that he couldn’t seem to hold still. Which was fine by John, of course. A wriggly Paul was typically a happy Paul, after all.

It might’ve been minutes or hours before Paul broke the kiss, but John was too dizzy to care. He could only blink woozily up at the other man, drunk on arousal and relief, relief that Paul was pleased by his confession and hadn’t been scared away by it instead.

“Silly John,” Paul whispered, kissing the tip of John’s nose. “Don’t you know? I’m gonna be loving you too. For as long as I live. Longer if I’m allowed.”

John bundled Paul against himself, their limb entwining and their bodies flush. They’d grown so used to sharing air across from each other on stage that it was no surprise that the steady breathing of the other calmed them both so completely. John watched as Paul lost the fight to stay awake, his eyes falling closed as his lips parted with wispy, sighing snores.

“Long after I’m gone,” John whispered, tracing Paul’s brow with a featherlight fingertip. “I’m gonna be loving you, my dear one. My Paul.” 


End file.
